When I was 12 years old, I decided I would walk to the end of a rainbow, find the gold and we could all live happily ever after. Several hours later, too tired to take another step, the rainbow as far away as ever and fading fast, I headed back home. I found something on that expedition, though, as I’ve never forgotten it.
All life exists
At the end of a rainbow.
Witches on broomsticks,
A Knight in shining armour.
I don’t really think so.
The last time I looked,
There was only a crumble of dirt,
A grain of corn,
A rain beetle struggling through the leaf mould.
Still, we build
What we can
With what’s to hand.
© Gwen Grant
2 thoughts on “RAINBOW”
“I found something on that expedition, though, as I’ve never forgotten it.”
And it has served you so well!
To have discovered a wisdom such as this was surely a blessing.
What we can
With what’s to hand.”
Glad you liked this poem, Josie. I can remember every detail of that day, borrowing my
Dad’s bike, (without his knowledge!) and cycling faster and faster to find the end of the
rainbow and the pot of gold that was supposed to be there! Wouldn’t that have been good!
Riding home, though, I was exhausted and only wanted a glass of water.
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